


The Lonely Hearts Club

by jongleur



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Hate to Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongleur/pseuds/jongleur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis, a drama student, finds himself flirting with the same men as Harry Styles, prep boy extraordinaire. Zayn is crushing on Liam, who not only wants nothing to do with him, but is hiding a secret. And Niall, who is trying to fuck everything that moves; it is only his ex-boyfriend, Josh, who can stand him. They are the lonely hearts who, eventually, find each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Six Inch Rockets.

**Author's Note:**

> a WIP? yes.  
> this is ten chapters long, but i don't know if i should continue it. oh. 
> 
> title of the story from marina and the diamonds' song of the same name, and title of the chapter from homewrecker, also from marina. enjoy!

i.

_we’re all very lovely till we get to know each other,  
when we stop becoming friends and we start becoming lovers._

_::_

Louis is standing underneath the neon lights, drink in hand.

The club’s loud generic music should be annoying, but instead, they feed Louis the perfect amount of debauchery for what he intends to do next. His hips are slowly swinging to the beat, and then he eyes the rest of the people in the club with a pococurante look on his face.

The club is small; it only has a decent dance floor, on its sides there are tiny glittery tables made for two, and of course, the alcohol bar. It’s not very big, but the variety of new and trendy drinks is the reason many university students keep it open and alive.

Louis’ blue icy eyes scan around, as if looking for his prey, like a wild cat on the run in its search for little mice.

On the other side of the bar he spots a boy who looks older than him, with dirty blond hair and biceps that were made to make lithe boys like Louis squirm underneath them. However, Louis’ smirk soon fades as Dirty Blond winks at a group of girls walking to the restroom. He rolls his eyes as the plastic girls bat their eyelashes and laugh, very much like hyenas. Louis thinks that the club is indeed a lot like a jungle.

He takes the last gulp of his bright green drink (he doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t even taste that good, but he’s on his third one already), it tastes even more bitter than last time, and he refuses to believe it’s because he has been on the club for almost an hour already and he has had no luck .

He’s ready to give up for the night, when, out of nowhere, spots the easily most delicious man on the whole club. He’s got dark eyes, smooth skin, pink, pink lips and a body that was made to model. The man is sitting on one of the glittery tables, alone. Louis tries his luck, makes eye contact with him, and is rewarded with a grin reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat.

Louis takes a deep breath, briefly considering if he should get another drink before going up to the guy, but decides against it, instead, he surreptitiously runs a hand through his chestnut hair and walks in confident strides towards the handsome stranger.

The other man’s grin becomes bigger as he sees Louis approaching, he even looks maniac. Louis reconsiders going up to him, but even the idea of a sexy maniac sounds good at this point so he keeps on walking. He _knows_ Niall would make fun of him if the next morning he finds him empty handed, still bitter, and painfully dry. No, he won’t give the stupid Irish the satisfaction.

“Hello.” Louis says sultrily; he will try his best, but he certainly won’t show it to this man. Nonchalance is the first rule on the book of How To Get Laid. He thinks.

“Hey.” Sexy says back, eyeing him up and down. Now that he sees him closely, his face looks a bit greasy, soapy. Oh, well, it’s the best he’s going to find tonight.

Louis inwardly parties, though, if everything goes alright, he will be having a delicious dessert à la soap that night. He hopes he didn’t grimace at what he just thought.

“What are you doing here sitting alone? Shouldn’t you be dancing?” Louis keeps on going, aiming to reach up and touch his arm.

The man laughs, he has a nice laugh at least, “I’m up all night to get lucky?”

This stupid, gormless man just quoted Daft Punk, and Louis has to fake a laugh, and contain himself from smacking him silly.

He’s about to reply (he’s a nice boy, he is), when suddenly a milky, alien-looking boy attaches himself like a leech to Louis’ new conquest. The newcomer is smiling with his too big lips at Soapy, but then his eyes find Louis’ and he instantly glares.

“Who are you?” the pale boy says. He has a deep, growly voice, and his stare is still on Louis.

“I’m Louis. And who are _you_?” Louis replies defiantly. The other boy is taller, so Louis tries to stand straighter without the other two boys noticing.

“I’m Harry Styles. And, good sir, I was here with—” he trails off, waving at Soapy, who is in the middle of the two, looking more than uncomfortable.

“Jona.” the hunky boy helps in.

“Jona. I was here with _Jona_ before you arrived. Went to get us some drinks.” Harry asks, taunting.

Louis wants to fume, to hit both of these assholes, because _of course_ this was bound to happen. But there’s something about this gangly boy with ridiculous hair that won’t let Louis back down this easily.

“Are you his boyfriend?” he replies sharply.

Harry’s smirk deflates, “Don’t be silly, I came here to dance with him.”

“Dance you say?”

“Mhm.” Harry nods, and his grip on Jona becomes stronger.

“Well, Jona agreed to dance with me. Isn’t it right, _Jo_?” Louis grabs the Soapy’s other arm, gripping almost as tightly as Harry.

“Uhh, yeah.” Soapy replies, looking as if he wants drown himself with the colorful drinks on the table next to them.

“But you said we’d drink and then go dance, babe.” Harry insists pouting unnecessarily. Louis rolls his eyes.

“I said that too, yeah.”

In all honesty, Louis doesn’t even want anything with Jona anymore, as soon as he gets the vacuous boy, because he will, he’ll lose him on the dance floor. But right now, this is a game he can’t lose, he won’t relent, and he can see Harry won’t either.

“Well, _babe_ ,” he starts, mocking Harry, “if you dance with me, I assure you we won’t be coming back here.” Louis winks for a fleeting moment at the man next to him, but goes back to looking at Harry, as if defying him. He then drops his keys in front of Jona, and bents down to pick them up. A very dirty move, he knows, but God gave him that bum and he has to use it for his advantage.

When he stands up he sees Jona still looking unashamedly at his arse, and he can see Harry mouthing him something along the lines of ‘trashy’. Louis ignores him.

Just when he thinks he’s won, Harry unbuttons the top of his—who the fuck wears a dress shirt to a club? a heart-stamped dress shirt, nonetheless—shirt, revealing a pale chest with an array of stark black tattoos, and then grabs Jona’s head and pulls him down to whisper something, no doubt dirty, in his ear.

Louis coughs loudly, and then says, “Look, Jona, if you want to spend the rest of your night with this pallid blazer-wearing, man-child, go ahead. But let’s be honest, I know how to party, and I saw you checking me out a while ago. Your decision.” Louis shrugs as if making the decision is obvious. It is.

Harry glares, disentangling himself from Jona completely, “Listen here you tasteless _boy,_ I was here first. You appeared out of nowhere, like a tacky snake ready to get your hands on _my_ man.”

“ _Your_ man? You really are ridiculous, aren’t you? He doesn’t belong to you. I think he can make a decision by himself, can he? Or are you afraid he’ll choose me instead?” Louis replies hotly.

“As if. Who’ll choose you over me? You’re dressed like bum from the streets!” Harry recoils.

Louis gets wide eyed, how _dare_ this posh kid insult him. “This is how you dress to go to a club, you moron. You’re dressed up as if you’re gonna have tea and biscuits with the Queen!”

“Enough. If you’re so sure he’s going to pick you, why don’t we ask the man himself, shall we?” Harry says sternly, as if insulting his clothing was the last straw.

But when they both turn to look at Jona, he’s nowhere to be seen.

Great, Louis was too absorbed with the posh prick that the only half decent man i the club had escaped.

“See what you did? You let Saponaceous escape! Thank you so much.”

“ _Saponaceous_.” Louis repeats, trying to imitate a royal accent and failing miserably, “You, my friend, are such a stuck up, does it hurt to just say Soapy?”

“That’s not the appropriate term.” Harry frowns walking to the table and straight for the drinks.

“Ok, I do not need you to give me English lessons, I’m a drama major.” Louis says proudly, still annoyed, but proud.

“How fun.” Harry says, but looks quite the opposite of _how fun_.

Louis eyes the hot pink drink on the table and adds plainly, “You owe me a drink.”

Harry downs both drinks in less than five seconds, the burning of his throat visible to even Louis. “Nasty.” then adds, “And you owe me a blowjob.”

Louis grimaces in disgust, “Posh hipster dicks are not my thing, sorry, babe. And now, if you excuse me, I’m going to drink until I don’t recognize the difference between Leonardo DiCaprio and my hand.” He hastily turns around and heads, once again, to the bar. He sighs in defeat.

Harry glares at him until Louis gets lost in the crowd. Good thing the blue eyed boy doesn’t look back to see Harry’s sudden ghost of a smile.

::

 

Niall can see Louis from where he is. His friend is shamelessly flirting with some bloke and Niall shakes his head fondly and with a grin on his face, _Tommo_.

He keeps on walking towards the corner of the club, where it’s quieter, where the stupid looking tables have minute stains on them, and reek of tobacco. It’s evident they aren’t on the best conditions, but they are silent and that’s all that Niall cares about.

He looks back, and sees Josh walking right behind him. He intends to this the easiest as possible, but it all depends on Josh at the end of the day.

He sits on one of the two stools, the one with the wobbly leg.

Josh, with a content smile on his face, sits on the other, ready to hear whatever Niall wants to tell him.

“ _So…_ ” Josh starts.

Niall sighs, opens his mouth, but closes it again. “Babe—”

Josh scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “Ok, Horan, you never call me babe. What’s up?”

“Do you want a drink first?” Niall tries, but knows he’s going to fail.

“No. Now spit it out.” Josh replies, stare unwavering and serious.

Niall holds his hands in mock surrender. He looks back to where they had been minutes prior, finds Louis in what seems to be an argument with a skinny lad, and wonders what that is all about.

He looks back at Josh. He is so pretty, Niall can admit; soft skin, bright eyes, and honey colored hair. The piercings were more than hot too. And the tattoos.

“Listen, Josh.”

“Yeah.” Josh replies intensely.

“You’re my best friend.” he starts. This could go both ways.

“Hm.” is all Josh responds.

“And you will always be my best friend, but…we’ve had a good run.”

“Oh.”

There it is; he’s said it. There is silence between them, and Niall isn’t sure what to say next. He grabs both of Josh’s small and tough hands, as if to soften the blow. Or something. He isn’t very good at this.

“It’s been what, five months of—”

“Seven.” Josh interrupts.

“What?”

“Seven months. Of us dating.”

“Seven months, of course.” _Right._ He continues _, "_ It’s been seven months of really good times, and really good laughs, and _really_ good sex, but, I think it’s just…time, y’know?”

Josh is silent, his brown eyes still burning through Niall’s skull.

Niall tries to look solemn, he does, because Josh has been his best friend since high school, but he’s also Niall Horan, and Niall Horan can’t be tied down, he’s a free soul.

Josh is still silent, still looking at him expectantly.

“That’s all, I think.” He says awkwardly.

“Ok, then.” Josh replies nonchalantly. Niall arches an eyebrow.

“Um, really? Are you not hurt?” Niall’s confused. He doesn’t want his now ex-boyfriend hurt, but shouldn’t he be reacting differently?

Josh laughs, showing his pearly whites, then snorts, “It’s ok, Ni. This was bound to happen, wasn’t it?”

“It was?” He did not know that.

“The only thing you love more than sex is food, you like to roam about searching for it. It’s alright.” Josh rolls his eyes, now paying more attention to the alcohol bar than to the blond in front of him.

Niall is now the surprised one. “Wow, you’ve taken this extremely well. I—thank you, Josh.”

Josh waves a hand dismissively, “It’s fine, can I now go drink some of that green stuff, please?”

Niall throws his head back and laughs, “Sure. Don’t drink too much, you don’t want a repeat of last week.”

“You know that’s imminent.” Josh crinkles his eyes and then floats towards the alcohol bar.

Niall stands there, still amazes at how smooth that went. He supposes it shouldn’t surprise him much, Josh is as chilled as he is, a reason they’re best friends.

Then realization hits him, he’s a free man.

He’s a free man and he’s at a club with lots of hot people.

Niall grins impishly.

::

 

It’s been about half an hour and four multi-colored drinks after he and Niall broke up, when he sees a stumbling figure walking his way.

It doesn’t take him long to recognize the deflated fringe full of sweat, tan skin, and a maniac laugh. It’s a drunk Louis Tomlinson. Josh rolls his eyes.

“Hey, Joshy!” the other boy laughs as he hops right in the stool next to Josh.

He signals the bartender with two lone fingers and a loopy smile.

“What’s got you so drunk?” Josh inquires, eyeing his slightly out-of-it friend.

“These tiny rainbow things are wonders.” Louis replies sniffing one of the drinks, this one is a bright canary yellow. He downs it on one gulp.

Seeing the state of his friend, Josh decides to sip his neon purple drink instead. He then says, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting laid? That’s what you said this morning, at least.”

Louis groans and thumps his head on the slick table. “Don’t mention it. The only guy I could find was stolen away from me by an alien boy with a huge mouth.”

Josh thinks Louis is even drunker than he had thought. He shrugs, that’s why they’re here for, isn’t?

Louis looks up, looking at Josh. “What about you? How come you aren’t grinding off on the dance floor with Niall like always?”

Josh rolls his eyes, before downing his whole drink, “He broke up with me, apparently.”

At this, Louis seems more alert, “What? No way! I—I’m sorry?”

Josh purses his lips, “Nah, don’t be. You know Niall.” He looks back to see if his ex-boyfriend is somewhere to be seen, surely with some bimbo. He’s not, Josh exhales and orders another drink.

When Josh looks back at Louis, he finds his friend staring into space, with a glaze over his eyes.

Suddenly, Louis speaks, “You know what? We should kiss, Josh.”

Josh stares at him. “No.”

“Ok.” Louis grumbles, but doesn’t seem too affected by it.

They stay silent for a couple of minutes, a feat Josh considers impressive given that Louis is the most loquacious person he knows. And he used to date Niall Horan, so that’s saying something. Now that he thinks about it, he wonders how it came to be that he befriended the single two most intense boys ever. He’s a magnet of crazy people it seems.

Then he hears a soft chuckling beside him, and then Louis chortles out, effectively breaking him out of his reverie, “Remember…remember when I tried to kiss you? At that uni party that was full of pot heads.”

Josh grimaces at the memory, but nods, “Yeah, of course. Don’t be a shit and remind me of that.”

“And then Niall saw me, and punched me right in the face. Good times.” Louis laughs, not caring if anyone was annoyed by him.

“For some more than for others.”

“Hey!” Louis pouted, “A lot of guys like kissing me! You should be honored Josh Devine!”

Josh laughs, and then pats his friend on the back, “I’m kidding, Lou.”

Louis considers for a moment, thinking; or what can be considered thinking after downing at least fifty dubious drinks. “Hm. But they _were_ good times, innit? I met you and Niall, after all.”

“What are you talking about? They’re still good times.”

Louis shrugs, looking down, “I guess so. I got out of that hole, anyway, thanks to you, nonetheless.”

Josh sighs and gives Louis an encouraging smile, “Well, now you live with us, Louis. Still good times, ok?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Louis sighs, looking just a bit more sober now. “Which reminds me, I have to pick up some shit from him tomorrow. Fuck.”

“We can—” Josh starts, “If you want to, me and Niall can go pick them up. We’ll just tell your dad—”

Louis interrupts him forcefully, “He’s not my dad, Josh.”

Josh stares before adding, “Sorry, yeah, sorry. Well, we can go instead if you don’t want to.”

Louis sighs and seems to consider this, but deflates before adding, “No. Mum says I have to see him once in a while. Says the bloke is paying my university blah blah blah.”

Josh nods in understanding, then looks at his friend again. It seems like the night wasn’t much help to them after all.

“You know what? Let’s just get absolutely smashed. Don’t think about anything else, Louis. Just have fun.”

Louis looks up at him, and smiles. One of those big, sparkly smiles that are just so _Louis_.

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all week, Joshy-poo. Let’s get pissed until we don’t know our names!” Louis cheers.

They clink their glasses, and that it’s exactly what they do.

::

Niall is dripping with warm sweat, his legs are exhausted, and his throat is raspy from laughing too much, when he stumbles out of the dance floor. He’s been dancing for about two hours straight, and to be honest, he feels like death is right on his doorstep. Not that he’d mind dying this way.

He’s flirted all night with all sorts of people; from bubbly girls, to sultry ones; from laughing boys, to hunky ones. It’s been fun, and seriously, Niall had missed this.

However, he’s still looking for someone to take home. He’s not even that picky, and a lot of people back there were interested, but Niall had shrugged them off: he was sure there was someone else that would be right for him.

It is then that he decides to move over for a drink, he doesn’t want to faint from dehydration before getting at least a blowjob, after all.

“One of those gay little shits you have there, please.” he shouts to the bartender, who sighs and goes to work. There have been a lot of drunkards that night.

He stays there contemplates the place, and smiles contently at himself. It’s been a great night. Except when he had to break up with Josh, but. Well.

He still thinks Josh is the best person ever, especially after he didn’t mind that much when he broke up with him. He wonders where he and Louis went off to, looks around the place to see if they’re anywhere to be seen, but they’re not. Niall supposes they’ve already left the place.

The bartender brings him his drink, a weird bubbly concoction. He shrugs before swallowing it whole.

“Those look really nasty, man.” a strange voice says behind him.

A slim boy on a leather jacket sits on the stool next to him. “Just a beer, please.” the stranger motions the bartender.

Niall studies him closely; he’s astoundingly pretty, he thinks. He’s got bronze-like skin, has huge brown eyes that are framed by long eyelashes, and he just…well, damn, he looks like a model. A proper Italian model or something.

“Don’t stare, mate.” the pretty boy tells him with a smile as he goes for the first sip of his beer.

Niall shakes his head, and he’s almost ashamed, except he’s not because he’s Niall.

“Sorry.” he smiles back.

“S’ok. You’re cute, so I didn’t want to be all creeped out just yet.”

Niall laughs and extends a hand, “I’m Niall.”

The other boy reaches out and says in a velvety voice. “Zayn.”

He thinks Zayn looks like the mysterious type, with the epic beauty and the leather jacket. But he’s not.

When Zayn tells him about his life in Bradford before coming to London, he discovers he’s interesting; when he tells him he’s majoring in Linguistics, he discovers he’s intelligent, and when he stands up and dances just to show him how awful of a dancer he is, he discovers Zayn is funny. And it’s definitely the alcohol talking, but Niall’s probably smitten. Just for tonight, that is.

Zayn also explains why he’s the there, in the club, wanting to get drunk, maybe even have wild sex. Niall perks up at that.

“There’s this stupid guy, he’s really cute, and really nice, and I’ve tried talking to him, but he just ignores me, always tries to get rid of me.”

“What? Get rid of _you_?” Niall replies, affronted.

“I know, “Zayn rolls his eyes, and then adds, “This has been happening for, like, a month now, so I’ve figured he’s not into me. That’s why I’m here, to drink away my problems.”

“Aren’t we all?” Niall replies staring at Zayn unblinkingly.

And so, when he sees Zayn looking at him, with parted lips and a glint in his eyes, he does the only thing he could have done. He kisses him.

“I can make you forget, Zayn.” Niall whispers into the other boy’s mouth.

Zayn gasps, but doesn’t stop Niall, he just lets him before kissing him back. They both taste of bitter alcohol, but Niall hums into the kiss.

It doesn’t last very long until they’re both shuffling into a taxi cab, and trying to stop themselves from giggling because they know that if they give in to their wants, the cab driver will kick them out.

And when they get to Niall’s flat is all clash.

Clash of tongues, clash of colors; of white and blond, and bronze and black.

When they’re done, Zayn laughs on Niall’s bare shoulder until he falls asleep. Niall follows shortly after.

::

Zayn wakes up to his alarm ringing just next to his left ear.

He winces and rubs his ear after turning his phone off. His mind is fuzzy and he wants to go back to sleep, but then he notices the room he’s in. He scans it and sees clothes all around, a few football posters taped to the wall, and dozens of beer cans cover the floor. It’s definitely not his room.

He panics for a moment, then feels a cold breeze enter from the open window. He shivers and looks down at himself. He’s completely naked, the only thing that’s covering him up is a thin bed sheet.

And then he hears a loud snore next to him, and finds a pale blond soundly sleeping.

Zayn exhales as he recalls the previous night and hums. Last night was very interesting to say the least.

He looks out the window again and realizes the sky beginning to turn from purple to light blue. His first class starts at eight, and he still needs to change clothes. Zayn grumbles as he looks for his clothes.

He finds his jeans across the room, and his shirt on Niall’s feet. Well, _someone_ was too eager yesterday. He shakes his head as he smells his clothes; they reek of alcohol, sweat and sex. His mother wouldn’t be too proud of him at the moment.

He tiptoes towards the door very quietly, he’s not sneaking out on Niall, but he doesn’t want to wake him up yet.

When he’s outside the room, he scans the place, searching for the kitchen. A tea would do wonders for his head right now.

He’s still completely naked, but figures Niall won’t wake up in the next twenty minutes, so he’s ok.

He enters the kitchen with a yawn, slowly open the fridge and then—

“Hello there.” a chirpy voice says.

Zayn turns around a faces a short brunet with blue eyes; the boy’s already fully dressed, with a denim jacket over a black t-shirt, jeans and a gray beanie. Wide eyed, he looks down at himself.

“Well, _hello_ there indeed.” the brunet once again says, this time, lewdly.

Zayn squeals before running towards the clothes he left on the kitchen counter.

He hears the short boy laugh delightedly.

“Don’t worry, mate. I’m just kidding. Mostly.”

Zayn puts on his pants behind the table in record time and stammers out quickly, “Sorry, I thought…I didn’t know Niall had a flat mate.” He seems to ponder for a moment before adding, “You _are_ Niall’s flat mate, right? You’re not his boyfriend or anything?”

“If I say yes, would it make you feel bad?” the boy says unperturbed, resting his elbow on the counter.

“Of course.” Zayn exclaims horrified at the prospect of being a…a _homewrecker_.

“Then yes. He’s my husband and we love each other very much, but now, thanks to you, we’ll get a divorce and the children will be destroyed.”

“You’re not being serious are you?” Zayn groans.

The other boy laughs unashamedly, “No. I could never date that little shit, he wouldn’t treat me right. Wouldn’t give me the love I deserve, wouldn’t app—” he abruptly turns to Zayn from where he was starting to boil some water in the stove. “You’re not here to date him right? Because I just bad-mouthed him, and I’d be a real shit friend if that’s the case.”

Zayn shakes his head in amusement, “No, we just…um, we just—”

“Fucked. Yeah, ok, good.” The cheerful boy returns to the stove, where he is ridiculously measuring the water and the height of the flames.

Zayn, now fully dressed, watches on curiously.

“You may be thinking I’m mad for being this precise with my tea, but _au contraire_ , dear…Niall’s friend, tea is an art, I tell you. Every little detail matters, every little detail can be the difference between life and death.”

“Of course.” Zayn nods about five times, as if he knows what the strange boy is talking about.

The other boy is hovering above the stove, muttering nonsense, when he peeks over at Zayn suspiciously, “Say, mate, do you like Yorkshire tea?”

Zayn is surprised by the question, but answers with a shrug, “Obviously. I’m from Yorkshire myself, you know.”

The boy’s previously cautious face morphs into a blinding grin, and Zayn can’t help but feel as if he’s just passed a test, with blinding colors nonetheless.

“Louis.” the boy says, still grinning.

“Sorry?”

“My name’s Louis Tomlinson, I live here with Niall.”

“Oh.” Zayn says in understanding, “I’m Zayn…Niall’s friend, I suppose.”

“Of course you are. Now, friend, please accept this cup of Yorkshire tea and make yourself comfortable. _Mi casa es su casa_.” Louis gives him the beverage with dramatic hand movements. Zayn thinks he might like him.

“Thank you.”

Zayn hears a soft padding on the wooden floor before someone calls, “What’s going on?”

Niall walks out, still sleepy, with his hair disheveled, and his face with tiny red marks from where he slept. He still looks disoriented, and he’s also very, very much naked.

Louis thrusts another cup of tea his way, Zayn’s almost afraid Niall’s going to let it slip past his hands, but the blond grasps it firmly and takes a giant gulp.

“Thanks, Lou.”

“Yeah. By the way your boyfriend’s sitting right here, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“My boyfriend? Jo—” Niall turns to the side and sees Zayn, who is sitting crossed leg on top of the counter. Louis said to make himself comfortable, so there’s that. He smiles at Niall.

“Oh, hello there, Zayn. Was wondering if you’d left without a proper goodbye.”

Zayn scratches the back of his neck and smiles, “No. Just came here to grab some tea, I guess.”

“For god’s sake, Niall, put on some fuckin’ clothes. I can see your pale bum cheeks from my bedroom!” another boy yells from the hallway Niall had come from.

Niall snorts, but goes back to his room to get some joggers on.

Louis rolls his eyes and yells back, “Don’t act as if you’re not turned on by his white Irish bread, Josh!”

“Fuck you!” is the only answer Louis receives, but the blue eyed boy just laughs it off.

Niall comes back with some briefs on and a white t-shirt, and Zayn watches the three boys (well, two boys and a yelling voice) with mild amusement.

“By the way, Niall, I like this one,” Louis says pointing to Zayn and sitting on the counter opposite of him, “Is he your new boyfriend?”

Zayn blushes lightly with a grimace at Louis’ forwardness.

Niall looks at him before taking a bite of a slice of bread with strawberry jam, “Zayn? Nah, he’s already, like, in love with some dude or something.”

Zayn’s not _in love_ , just…mildly infatuated. “Hey, you said I should forget him and start anew.” he protests.

Niall munches on his pastry with slow, careful bites before gulping it down with his tea. “I just said that so we could fuck, man.”

“Stop being an asshole.” A new boy walks swiftly into the kitchen, bumping into Niall’s shoulder purposely and making him drop his pastry onto the floor; the side with the jam is the one that slams into it. Niall stares intently at it with a pout, then picks it up, and eats it anyway.

Zayn’s eyes go back to the third boy, the one he supposes was yelling a few minutes ago. He’s shorter than Louis and has got many tattoos on his arms, just like Zayn, but he’s also got multiple piercings all across his body.

“This is Josh, by the way.” Louis motions to the new boy who also gets a cup of tea.

Zayn waves at him, and Josh does the same with a shy, tentative smile.

“Anyway, pleasantries over. Now, Zayn, tell me…are you _really_ in love with someone? Like, proper?” Louis stares at him with sad, shining eyes, and boy, is he dramatic.

Zayn squirms under the scrutiny of the three boys, but then rolls his eyes, “I’m not in love with him…I just like him quite a lot. A lot. I wanna have his babies.”

“Then why the hell did you sleep with Niall then?” Louis chastises him with a frown.

Josh coughs, and Niall punches the air.

Zayn doesn’t think it hurts to tell these boys, who are practically strangers about his love life. “I thought it’d help.” he shrugs.

Louis shakes his head as he grabs him by the shoulders, “No, young Zayn, true love doesn’t _forget_. True love just _is_. True love will make the blood in your veins feel like fire, and it will make you feel alive. True love can’t be forgotten by a stupid Irish blond who is in need of dick.”

“Hey!” Niall protests as if he's offended. He's not.

“He’s a drama student.” Josh offers in explanation.

Huh, of course, makes sense.

Niall pats his own belly and then looks at Zayn, “But, he’s got a point, mate. If you really love him, don’t let other jerks like me get in the way.”

Josh adds, “True love, yipee.”

Zayn wants to thank them, for the tea and for their advice (needs to thank Niall for _other_ things), but then Louis says, “Ok, mates, I’m afraid I have to go! Seven o’clock class awaits for me! We shall depart.”

Josh throws him a plastic cup that’s on the counter, but Louis flees to the living room before it can hit him square in the face. One second later Zayn can hear the slamming of the door, and then Louis’ gone.

“Well, I gotta shower. Wait twenty minutes and I’ll drive you to your flat Zayn, alright?” Niall adds and then he, too, disappears.

It’s just Josh and Zayn in the kitchen, and Zayn purses his lips, sensing the atmosphere.

Josh is staring at him, unblinkingly and with a rare expression on his face. Curiosity, maybe.

“Have I got something on my face?” he asks Josh.

Josh sighs sadly before saying, “No, you’re alright. Want a proper breakfast? Something that’s not made up of tea or jelly?”

Zayn smiles, “That’d be nice.”

Josh smiles back before going to the kitchen.

::

As he seats on a bench just outside the Biology Building of the university, Zayn cleans the accumulated sweat on his hands.

He feels a lot of things that are confusing him. For one, he’s nervous. He can hear his own heartbeat, and that’s honestly scaring him, wonders if that’s a medical condition and he needs to see a doctor. Probably. Second, he’s feeling guilt. Now, he knows that Liam doesn’t see him the same way as he sees Liam (yet), and probably doesn’t care that Zayn was with someone last night, but the guilt is still there, eating him away, as if Liam will magically know and be mad at Zayn.

Sleeping with Niall hadn’t worked at all, in a sense it had sort of backfired.

And last, he’s optimistic, renewed. After Louis’ cheesy and fatuous words, something in Zayn just clicked and _realized_. He will keep on trying, he will make Liam see Zayn is head over heels for him and at least make him give him a chance. He has to try, for his own sake.

Zayn takes out his iPhone, and sees himself on the reflection; he smoothes a few loose strands of hair, and pops his neck twice in reassurance. He huffs out an air of annoyance as he remembers the nickname his best friend Danny made up for him in secondary school: Vain Zayn. Who gets all the birds, huh?

Well, not him, apparently.

It is just then, when he’s starting to talk to himself, that he spots Liam Payne entering the Biology building. He stands up, and trots swiftly, and what he hopes look natural, towards the taller boy.

“Hey, Liam!” Zayn shouts, waving at Liam. The other boy keeps on walking, however, and Zayn thinks Liam must’ve heard him. But, he can’t be downright ignoring him, right?

So he gives himself a quick mental pep talk, and strides forwards to Liam.

He finally catches up to him, a little bit out of breath, but finally next to him.

Liam looks at him curiously, doesn’t smile but nods. Zayn fights the urge to grimace, Liam probably sees him as some sort of ubiquitous leech.

“Hey, Liam.” He smiles, and touches Liam’s shoulder; when he sees the other boy tense up, he slowly withdraws.

“Hello, Zayn.” Liam says politely, “I’ve got Biology up next, so if there’s something you ought to tell me…”

Zayn brightens, “Yeah, yeah. I was wondering, well you like The Avengers, right?”

Liam visibly walks slower, and Zayn gives himself a congratulatory pat on the back. Good Start.

“Yes. How’d you know?” Liam asks, glaring at Zayn.

Oops. Well, _definitely_ not Facebook, no way.

“Um, you mentioned it the other day. Last week, I think.”

“Did I?” Liam asks suspicious.

He should be anyway, because the way Liam always closes off their conversations means he’d never mention it to Zayn.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies quickly, “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to see the new Thor movie. With me. This Saturday.”

For a second, for an _ion_ of a second, Zayn swears he sees Liam’s eyes brighten. But then his lips tighten, and he looks away.

“Sorry. I can’t go. Busy.”

“How about Sunday?” Zayn tries.

Liam gives him a hard look, “I’m busy all weekend.”

Zayn deflates, thinks he’s a second away from lying on the ground to sob and writhe in emotional pain.

“That’s—that’s fine. I guess it will have to be some other time, right?” Zayn stutters out.

Liam exhales, and gives a tiny smile, not too encouraging, but polite enough. “Yeah, we’ll see. I have to go. Sorry, though.”

“It’s ok. Good luck with your…biology thingies.”

Liam gives him a thumbs up and then runs towards the building, soon disappearing and leaving Zayn staring at him.

Zayn walks back to the bench, kicking away any poor rock on his path there.

He sighs, but then gives a small smile. He saw a little spark on Liam’s eyes, and he’s going to make sure he sees it again, and again.

::

Liam sighs as he quickly makes his way towards his classroom, which unfortunately for him, is on the highest floor of a six story building.

He tries not to look back at that bothersome boy—Zayn, but curiosity gets the best of him and Liam turns just a peek.

He’s sitting on a nearby bench looking deflated, as always is the case whenever Liam turns him down.

He doesn’t _like_ being mean, Liam’s actually pretty nice! It’s just that he’s also not stupid, he knows Zayn likes him, and Liam certainly cannot afford going on dates with boys, even if they’re as pretty as Zayn. Liam’s tried to push Zayn away more than once now, but it seems the stubborn boy doesn’t seem to get it. Liam is getting exasperated.

He met him about a month ago, when both of them had been at the library; they got talking a bit, friendly and polite conversations. And then Zayn started appearing at out nowhere, everywhere, flirting and laughing and Liam could _not_ do that.

He sighs before jogging up the flight of staircases.

He reaches his class in a matter of minutes, he’s an athlete, after all. Liam’s at least ten minutes early, earlier than most students, and certainly earlier than his professor, Mr. T.

Liam busies himself looking at yesterday’s notes, where he can read some scribble about the pelagic aquatic layer; or at least that’s what it looks like to him.

He flips his notebook to a brand new page, just when’s about to write the date, however, he hears shuffling on the seat next to him. There’s only one other person who arrives as early as him, and perhaps he is also the only student with better grades than him.

“Harry. Good morning.” Liam says, not looking up from his notebook.

“G’morning, Liam.” Harry says groggily.

Liam looks up. Harry is usually so cheerful, even when they have the morning class. He notices his friend looks pale, has dark bags under his eyes, and slumps harshly on his seat.

“Sick?” Liam asks.

Harry groans, “No. Just had a rough night, you know.”

Actually, he doesn’t know. Or maybe he just forgot the feeling of partying till the early hours of the morning, responsibilities and all that. He doesn’t tell that to Harry though, just nods sympathetically.

“I was about to not come today, my head is killing me.” Harry whines while he covers his eyes from the luminous white light above him.

“You should’ve stayed, you know? Professor wouldn’t mind.”

Harry shakes his head, “Yeah, I know, but I gotta stay his favorite student.”

Liam frowns, “ _Hey_! You don’t even know if you’re his favorite.” He knows Harry is Professor T’s favorite student, everyone knows, he just doesn’t need to _flaunt_ it.

Harry laughs but pats him on the back consolably before yawning, “Anyway, what you’ve been up to?”

Liam shrugs, now back to scribbling, “Nothing much, you know me. Studied, ate, slept.”

“Really?” Harry arches an eyebrow, “Nothing at all?”

Liam visibly hesitates before adding with a twisted mouth, “Zayn tried to ask me out again this morning. Does that count?”

“Is Zayn the boy who’s stalking you?” Harry questions.

Liam sighs in annoyance and starts writing down with staccato beat, “Yep.”

Harry hums. “Maybe you should go on a date with him. Poor sod.”

Liam finally looks up to his curly haired friend, and says indignantly, “ _No_.”

“Why not? He’s hot from what I’ve gathered.”

“From _where_ have you gathered that?” Liam sputters.

Harry laughs mockingly, “From you, dork.”

“When have I _ever_ said that, you liar.” Liam glares.

“Just saying, mate. Anyway, why don’t you? Date him, I mean.”

“It’s…complicated.” Liam avoids eye contact with Harry and stares at the point of his pencil.

“Huh.” Harry rolls his eyes, “Fine, whatever. Just…you can talk to me whenever need to, alright?”

Liam looks back, surprised at his not-so-close friend, and nods. “Yeah, thank you. Like-wise.”

Most of the students have already arrived and are quietly talking to each other, waiting for their professor.

Liam wants to tell Harry, he really wants, but he’s not ready, at least not yet.

So Liam instead coughs and gives Harry an earnest smile. “Really, thank you.” he repeats.

Harry is about to say something, but then finally, _finally_ Mr.T arrives.

“Morning class, sorry for being late, had a couple of issues, nothing to worry about. Anyway, let’s resume yesterday’s lesson, shall we?” The man enters in a rush, hair a blown mess, and tie loose. 

Harry rolls his eyes at their teacher and Liam joins in with a laugh, but before they notice their paying attention while he goes on and on about the ocean’s layers.

::

As always, Harry’s Ichthyology class ends up being fifteen minutes too long. He’s ok with that, though, it’s his favorite class, he’s the best student, and it’s given by his favorite Professor on campus.

When it’s over, he puts his two books and a notebook under his arm, and waits for Liam to get his stuff ready, like he does every day. However, this time Liam smiles apologetically and tells Harry he’s in a rush, and that he won’t be going the same way he does every morning. Harry is confused, mainly because he knows Liam is a man of routine, but shrugs and sees Liam rush off.

He heads, in a much relaxed pace than Liam, towards the door, he’s about to put on his ear buds, when he hears someone call his name.

“Harry.”

He turns around and sees Mr. T motioning with a wave; he wonders what the man wants.

“Yes, Mr. T?” Harry asks as soon as he’s near the Professor’s desk. He looks around and it seems Harry is the only one left in the classroom.

“I was hoping I’d catch you and Mr. Liam.” The man replies with a slight frown.

“Had too run off. Things. Liam things.” Harry explains.

Mr. T nods in understanding.

Harry had always liked Mr. T; he was an extremely good teacher, he was almost always joyful, but whenever he gave his monologues and speeches about fish and their behavior and all that, the man gave an air of pure exuberance that was virally contagious to his students. Harry liked that about him, although perhaps his warm, blue, fatherly eyes helped too.

The man continues, “I just wanted you to know that I may be going on a research trip to Windermere in a couple of months.”

“Research trip?”

“Let’s call it that, mainly I’m off to watch some of the fish nearby for an article I’ll be sending off to National Geographic.”

“ _Really_? That is so cool!” Harry sputters, then ponders for a moment, “Wait, does that mean you’re leaving us? To do your trip?”

Mr. T laughs, “No, Harry. The trip is only a weekend long, I’m telling you this because I thought you might want to go.”

The Professor laughs as Harry gets wide eyed, “That would be the _coolest_. I’m totally in. I’ll tell Liam, though I’m sure he’ll say yes, too.”

Mr. T laughs again, then stacks a couple of papers, “Ok, it’s still three months until I get everything ready, but I like your excitement, Styles.”

Harry jumps giddily with a grin on his face and then hops towards the door, “Thank you so much Mr. T.”

The older man dismisses him with a wave and a fond smile.

Harry doesn’t stop grinning until he notices where his feet are taking him: Kilimanjaro Café, his favorite café just outside campus. He wasn’t meant to be going there, but supposes it’s fine, he doesn’t have his next class until 12 o’clock.

He walks in longs strides, but nonetheless, slowly. Harry waves hello to various people around the university, he’s not popular, but he does have a share of good friends.

He arrives at Kilimanjaro in less than five minutes, and takes in the warmth of the place, the smell of invigorating coffee beans, and fruity and sweet spices.

The place is almost empty save for a girl at the very corner with a laptop and a boy surrounded by dozens of books, both undoubtedly doing homework. Harry walks straight to the counter, drops his textbooks sluggishly, and then hops onto the newly wiped counter.

The only person working behind the counter, a sandy haired boy rolls his eyes.

“Good morning, Harry. What are you going to have to today?” he says monotonic, as if he’s forced to say it. Deep down, Harry is pretty sure they love him.

“Surprise me, Josh.” he smiles.

Josh sighs, “You do know that I could give you the nastiest drink we have and you’d still have to pay it, right?”

“I know, but I trust your judgment. You always give me something fresh and with chocolate. Because you are nice boy.”

“One of these days I’m going to poison you, Harry.”

Harry laughs unabashedly. He’s been coming to Kilimanjaro since he started university, which would be almost one year ago. However, Josh started working there since about six months ago, and the boy is honestly nice so Harry has been coming here a lot more since then.

“You look like shit, mate.” Josh tells him.

“Wow, thank you so much, Josh.” Harry whines, “Yeah, I know. Stayed up at a club.”

Josh laughs, “Me too. Not the best night, if I’m honest.”

Harry agrees, “Yes, _horrible_ night.”

There’s a ring on the door signaling another customer, Josh goes to attend him while Harry eyes the bulletin board next to him.

The flyers are mostly for jobs so Harry doesn’t pay attention to those, however there is one that catches his eye.

“Shit.” he mutters under his breath, Josh seems to hear him though, because next thing Harry knows, he’s next to him, eyeing the flyer too.

“What?” Josh curiously asks, then hands him his coffee.

“I totally forgot about this.” Harry groans. “My friend Liam invited me to the Ridgeway trail thingy this weekend. I think there’s hiking involved, I don’t want to go.”

“I thought you were into nature and all that?” questions Josh.

“ _No_. I just like water, and swimming and cute little fishes. I don’t like hiking, there’s mud and insects involved.”

Josh shakes his head, amused, “Well, good luck with that.”

Harry grumbles and takes a sip of his coffee. It tastes like chocolate and strawberry, he smiles at Josh.

“You do love me.” he grins as he pays for his order.

“You’re a tit. I hope a giant spider eats you this weekend.”

“Be careful for what you wish for, Josh, it might just come true.” Harry hopes off the counter and gathers his books.

“One can only hope.”

Harry sticks out his tongue and says, “Well I’m off, gotta pick up a friend and then go to class. I’ll be back though, I’ll tell you all about my trip to the dark woodlands.”

Josh rolls his eyes, but waves goodbye to Harry.

Harry only laughs and then is gone in a blink. Poshness and smiles all gone with him.

Josh thinks Harry is the most ridiculous person he knows.

But then Louis Tomlinson comes barging in and Josh decides that no, he’s not.

::

 

 

 

 


	2. The King and All of His Men.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because everyone has a past, a present, and a future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's a bit shorter that the first one, and it's not action filled, but it's important. the fun starts in the next chappie :)

 

ii.

_Well, you can fight it, but you know that you won’t get your way in the end_ _  
_ _And if you’re dealing a line of cards_ _  
Won’t you take me to the queen of hearts?_

::

 

_He’s four when his dad leaves._

_Louis still doesn’t know much about anything, that is true. But he knows what happy means, and he knows what sad means. That morning, when he wakes up and walks to the kitchen, still groggy and smiley, he knows mommy is sad. So sad that she’s crying and he’s never, ever seen and adult cry, much less mommy._

_He also knows that daddy never comes back._

_His mum doesn’t tell him right away, of course not, but he’s not a dumb boy, he can figure it out, and he knows mommy is sad because daddy left and will not come back._

_It makes him sad too, the saddest he’s ever been; why would daddy leave? Didn’t he love mommy? Didn’t he love_ Louis _? So Louis cries for a few days too, but then it just stops._

_He’s only four, but he knows he doesn’t like seeing mommy cry. Mommy doesn’t know Louis sees the red eyes, or hears the sniffling when she thinks he’s not around, but he does. And he knows it’s daddy’s fault, so then Louis gets mad. He gets mad at daddy for leaving them, for making mommy cry._

_When he’s five, daddy calls. Mum tells him, asks him if he wants to talk to him. He’s about to say yes, because he misses his dad, but then he remembers listening to mommy cry on the room next door. He knows mommy has to work two jobs now, one in the morning, and one in the night. He doesn’t like it because now he doesn’t see either of his parents anymore. So he says no._

_He calls again on thanksgiving, and Louis still says no._

_On his sixth birthday he sends a Power Ranger, the newest one, and the one Louis had wanted. His mum makes Louis write a thank you letter to him, and all he writes is a dry ‘thank you, i guess’ with his signature on it. Without the smiley face, of course._

_He never plays with the Power Ranger; it stays, unopened and full of dust, on one of the corners of his room._

_When he’s seven, his mum gets a new husband and Lottie is born._

_His dad doesn’t call that year._

_Mark becomes ‘daddy’, and daddy becomes ‘Benjamin’._

_It doesn’t hurt Louis anymore, his mum is now happy, and he has a little sister._

_When he’s eight and nine, Benjamin takes him to a rugby game. Louis tells him he’d rather watch football._

_Soon after, Fizzy is born. Then the twins, Daisy and Phoebe. Louis has a family, it’s not just him and his mum, and he’s happy, he feels complete._

_When he’s twelve he tries to understand why Benjamin left him, why he left his mum. He’s big enough now, but he still doesn’t understand._

_When he’s eighteen, Benjamin visits him and tells him he will pay for his university if he goes to the one he works in. Louis almost punches him. Instead, he simply refuses. His mum tells him to take the offer, that the university Benjamin works in is prestigious, that it has the one of the best drama programs in the country. It will only be four years, she says, then you can come back, or stay there, do whatever you want to, Louis._

_It’s in London, and god knows Louis can’t afford to live by himself, Benjamin offers his house. He says they can live together. Louis hates him._

::

Louis looks at himself in the mirror. He looks nice, he supposes, his hair is being tame and friendly under his gray beanie, his skin looks spotless and his eyes shine a cool blue. But. He looks too happy, that’s the thing. Not happy, no,...too  _content_ , is the word.

And Louis won’t have that, he can’t look  _content_ going to Benjamin’s.

He won’t lie and say he didn’t consider accepting Josh’s offer and making him and Niall go pick up the boxes from his house, but he had promised his mum he’d see the old man at least twice a month. Not only was he paying for Louis’ university, but he was the only family Louis had in London.

No, Louis shakes his head, Benjamin is  _not_ family.

There’s no one at the flat, Josh is off at uni, and Niall is off somewhere, probably trying to have sex. Louis feels a bit lonely and wishes one of his friends could go with him.

He takes a deep breath and gets out of the flat. The way from his flat to Benjamin’s house is not too long, only a short trip on the tub would do. 

He takes a seat on the smelly tub, and wrinkles his nose, he supposes he needs to invest on a car as soon as possible. 

He gets lost in his thoughts: perhaps Benjamin won’t be there right now, perhaps he can go unnoticed this time around. It’s highly unlikely, but Louis can dream.

The tub stops and Louis gets out of there quickly. The air is chilly and he zips up his jacket, watching the small swirls of air carry dry fallen leaves. It must be nice, he thinks, to float around all day and do absolutely nothing, just be guided by nice, cool wind. But then, Louis supposes, leaves don’t get drunk. A downside he’s not ready to give up.

He walks a few blocks from the tube stop to Benjamin’s house, and stops right in front of it, contemplating. It’s really pretty, and way too big for a single thirty-eight year old man. Louis never knew why Benjamin didn’t remarried, he would probably be bitter and hate on his step-mother, but he never understood why Benjamin didn’t.

Louis has keys, but he never uses them, instead, he rings the doorbell.

Soon enough, a smiling man opens the door. “Louis. You did come by.”

Louis offers a tight smile, not an impolite one, just not a genuine one, “Told you I would.” He enters the house and it still smells and looks the same as it did when he lived there for five and a half months. It smells of lemon, wooden floors, and  _earth_ . He always used to tell Benjamin it stank of tuna, even if it wasn’t true.

His house smells of familiarity, however, it doesn’t smell like home. 

Home smells of chocolate, tea, medicine, and  _pink_ .

“So, where are the boxes?” he asks the older man. He’s not going to make conversation, he just came here to pick up his stuff and leave.

Benjamin sighs loudly, and points upstairs, to the room Louis used to occupy, “In your room, I didn’t move them from there. Do you need help?”

“I think I can manage.” Louis huffs out.

“There are three full boxes, Louis, you won’t be able to take them back.”

“Yes, I can. Watch me.” he stubbornly replies, already making his way upstairs.

But if one thing Louis knows but refuses to acknowledge is that in all ways and forms, Benjamin has to be his biological dad because they’re both the two most stubborn men Louis has ever met. He supposes that’s one of the reasons he’s here in London.

He’s not in the mood to fight today, he’s just not in the mood to be near Benjamin so Louis lets him help carry two of the boxes and put them on his car. Louis tsks and rolls his eyes at the brand new Ford Focus. 

“I think there might be some stuff of mine in there, though,” Benjamin says, “I can browse through and check if you’d like.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “No, you’ll take too long. If there’ something I’ll just give them to you tomorrow.” He doesn’t want to, really, but he’s also not too fond of the idea of being here with him more than it’s necessary. 

“Alright.” Benjamin says, with a hint of exasperation, and starts the car. “How are Niall and Josh?”

Louis rolls his eyes, he doesn’t like Benjamin knowing too much about him, “Fine. I don’t know.” he adds, just because, “Niall’s having too much sex, I think.” 

He hopes the other man will sputter and get awkward or something, instead he asks confused, “With Josh?”

Ok, no. Benjamin definitely knows too much. He makes a disgusted face, “No. Just in general. They’re not dating anymore.”

Benjamin hums sadly, “They were good together, I think.”

Louis wants to yell at him, or slap him, tell him he doesn’t know shit about his friends, that he doesn’t know anything. But he doesn’t. Mainly because he’s tired, but also because he’s right, Josh and Niall were good together. 

They stop just in front of Louis’ flat. “You need help bringing them up?”

“No.” Louis replies too quickly. “Niall’s on his way, he’ll help me.” Louis lies.

“It’s no problem, it’d be faster.”

“It’s ok. I’m sure you have more important stuff to doing, you know, instead of being here with me.” Louis looks him dead in the eye. His eyes were too alike, much to Louis’ chagrin. His were lighter, chillier, while Benjamin’s were dark. 

“Louis—”

But Louis is already outside, getting the boxes from the back seats.

He stacks them up, one after the other, while Benjamin watches from the car. “Where’s Niall?”

“He’ll be here, you can go now.”

“I can wait.”

“No, just _leave_ Benjamin. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.” Louis frowns.

Benjamin sighs in defeat, starts the car, and says, “Goodnight, Louis.”

His son doesn’t reply and then he’s off.

Louis groans and hides his face with his hands. 

Then he makes his way up to his flat three times. Each time with a different box.

::

“Go Derby!” Niall yells before taking a gulp of his glass full of beer. The bartender gives him a side glare. _Bloody Gooner._

Josh had to take his late night uni classes, and Louis had to go visit his dad or something, so Niall had ended up in the flat alone, and decided to get out.

He’s been watching The Championship on a pub, surrounded by an incoming flow of beer, and Niall thinks life couldn’t be better.

But it can.

A gust wind suddenly enters the pub, and a group of young men come strutting in, joking out loud and yelling  _Derby!_

Niall smiles _, that’s_ his kind of people.

The group of four men sits only a couple of stools next to Niall; he eyes them unabashedly, and the closest to him, the youngest by far, is a man with light brown hair and a fedora.

Niall nearly almost bursts out loud at the ridiculous hat, the man turns to look at him, and Niall winks.

He can see the other man’s cheek slightly dust with pink and he takes it as a good sign. He takes his beer and sits just next to the other man.

“Y’all fans of Derby?” he asks the group.

They all cheer and yell and Niall laughs and buys them all drinks. He really doesn’t have that much money to spend on alcohol, but for Derby fans Niall can do everything. They’re family.

He sits with the group and watches the game, yelling obscenities once in a while and cheering every couple of minutes.

It is until half time that he turns to look at the man with the fedora. He’s the youngest one of them, but still a few years older than nineteen year old Niall.

“So, great game, huh?” he asks him.

The other man smiles with a nod, “Best one of the season, I think.”

“They’re gonna get better and better, just watch.” then adds with a deeper voice, “What did you say your name was?”

“Olly.” the other man smiles.

Niall comes closer to Olly, hot breath near his ear. “It’s half time, there are bathrooms over there, and I quite like you. What do you say Olly?”

Olly almost splutters out his beer, and becomes hot red. Niall can’t help but laugh, he almost falls off his stool.

“Yeah, alright.”

Niall leaves with Olly, still laughing.

::

_Josh meets Niall when they’re in Sixth Form; they’re seventeen and complete fools._

_Josh has never been one much of the sports type, he usually spends his lunch time on the music room, on the school’s drum set. He likes to practice while everyone else is outside, that way, no one can listen if he messes up._

_Even though he usually doesn’t mess up, it is that particular day that he’s having trouble with Led Zeppelin’s Good Times Bad Times._

_He just for the love of good can’t do the 7/16 measures; Josh is about to give up, he’s crashing the cymbals beatlessly when he hears the clear sounds of guitar riff._

_He turns around and there’s this short blond kid grinning at him while playing a red guitar Josh recognizes as his friend’s Dan. The boy is continuing where Josh left of and then motions with his head to keep going._

_Josh is hesitant, he doesn’t know this boy at all, and to be honest, he looks a bit delirious, but Josh never keeps his eyes on him, not even as he starts playing. He focuses on the boy, and on his guitar and then before he notices the chorus is over and Josh did it perfectly._

_The music stops and Josh gapes at his drum set then at the blond._

“ _H-how…” He probably looks like a fish out of water, but Josh can’t believe what he just did._

_The blond boy walks up to him, still smiling, “I think you just needed the guitar to guide the beat, instead of the other way around.” he extends his hand out to Josh, “I’m Niall Horan, by the way, guitar enthusiast.”_

_Josh takes his hand and can’t help but notice Niall’s warm hands, “Josh Devine, drummer. And…thanks, a lot.” Josh thinks he’s smiling giddily, but is not sure. He’s going to assume, for his own sake, that he’s not. He’s very manly, and he’s not going to lose his manliness to some boy with too long hair that’s obviously bleached._

“ _Say, Josh, want to play some more?”_

_Josh answers immediately, “Yes, sure, of course.”_

_He doesn’t know it yet, but in a few years, Josh will know that’s the time he fell in love with Niall Horan._

_They become friends after that, best friends. They spent their lunch together, playing classic rock tunes, then they spent after school together, then weekends, then whenever they can._

_When sixth form ends, it’s not even a question if Niall and Josh are going to live together once they move to London—they are._

_But living with Niall is something else entirely, and it’s one thing to have your best friend whom you’re secretly in love hug you, and another one to see him naked around all the time._

_Josh is nearing death with each day that passes, he’s near the end of his line, but then Louis happens._

_They’re at a party, the ones Niall loves because they’re full of beer and pot, and Josh sees him go and flirt with some girls. He sits on couch and starts pouting and glaring, but then a pretty boy with a nice voice sits beside him. His name is Louis and he’s obviously flirting with Josh._

_He has nice eyes, and he’s funny, and Josh really likes him. He thinks for a moment about kissing him, just to spite Niall, but then decide against it. He’s not a bad guy._

_But then he feels thin lips on him and Louis is kissing him and it feels nice, but not_ right _._

_He’s about to stop Louis, to back away, but then suddenly, Louis is pushed to the floor._

_Louis’ cheek is red and when he turns around, Niall is there wide eyed, staring at his fist as he’s just as surprised as Josh is, as Louis._

_Josh looks around the party, to see if anyone else saw, but the music is loud and everyone is too engrossed to notice. When he looks back at his friend, he can hear Niall mutter softly ‘sorry’ and then he’s gone in a rush._

_Josh helps Louis up to his feet and the blue eyed boy is pouting like five year old, “You didn’t say you had a boyfriend.”_

_Josh shakes his head in disbelief, half for Louis, half for Niall._

_And then he’s off after Niall. He doesn’t have to look for him: Niall is on the porch at the entrance of the door. Josh approaches him softly._

“ _Ni?” he whispers quietly._

_Niall turns around with a sad, sad face, “I’m sorry Josh, I—didn’t mean to do it. I don’t know why I did it…”_

“ _You don’t?” Josh inquires._

_Niall sighs and covers his face, “I do.”_

_Josh waits for his friend to continue, but when he never does, he just replies, “Let’s go home.”_

_Niall grasps he’s wrist, preventing him from going, “Wait, Josh, no.” he takes a deep breath. Niall’s usually pale face is red, and Josh knows it’s not just the cold air on his cheeks. “I’m scared, I’ve never felt this way about anyone, but you…” he looks up at Josh, “You’re_ you _Josh, and all I know is that I don’t want other people kissing you.”_

_Josh shudders at Niall’s honesty, he’s always been like that, but this time is different, “Do_ you _want to kiss me?”_

_He looks hesitant as if that realization has just dawned on him. “Yes.” Niall says tentatively, as if Josh is not in love with him with every fiber of his being._

_Josh gives a short dry laugh, but before Niall can misunderstand it, he surges forward and kisses him._

_That’s how Josh and Niall start dating._

_They’re the best seven months Josh has ever had._

::

“You know, Josh, I don’t even feel bad.” Zayn says as he looks around the café, happily contemplating.

Josh hums absent mindedly as he makes another customer’s vanilla latté, “No?”

Zayn sighs and takes a gulp of his café, “Nope. I think he’s playing hard to get.”

Josh raises an eyebrow at that, “You think?”

Zayn nods avidly, “Yes, yes. All the signs are there, he’s playing it cool, I just have to try harder and he’ll break, I reckon.”

The other boy rolls his eyes as soon as the customer is gone, then gives Zayn his full attention, “Are you sure? Perhaps he really is not—”

“Nonsense!” Zayn interrupts loudly, “Josh, you’re suppose to encourage me!”

Josh gives him a small smile before cleaning the counter, “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry for being such a negative bean.”

“S’ok. I just….I don’t what to do with him anymore.” Zayn sighs, finishing his drink. “Anyway, what about you?”

After yesterday’s morning, Zayn had come back to their flat and demanded hugs, which Louis was happy to give. Niall consoled him, and Josh gave him biscuits. It seemed Zayn was there to stay. Josh didn’t mind, he had even told the other boy he could drop by the café he worked on if he ever wanted company.

So Zayn, of course, appeared just the next day.

“Nothing, just classes. A lot of homework.” he sighs dramatically.

“What did you say you’re majoring in?”

“Medicine.”

Zayn somehow manages to wince and look awed at the same time, “Ouch.”

“Yeah,” Josh nods, “I regret everything in life.”

Zayn gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, “You’ll get there Doctor Josh.”

“What about you, Zayn?”

“Linguistics.”

“Cool.” grins Josh and then goes to attend a group of sleep deprived girls in need of coffee.

Zayn tries not to laugh at the zombie-like girls so he averts his gaze to the other side, were many brochures lie forgotten.

He eyes one of them in disgust, something about nature and stuff.

Josh comes back and Zayn shows it to him, “Who would ever want to go to a  _trail_ ? There’s insects.”

Josh remembers his previous conversation with Harry and laughs, “Harry said that same thing yesterday, his friend’s making him go. But you do know that people actually pay and enjoy that, right? It’s probably not that bad.”

“What did you say?” Zayn questions him, face alert and just in front of Josh’s.

Josh looks from side to side, scared, “Um, people enjoy it.” He can feel Zayn’s heavy breath on him. It’s unnerving.

Zayn glares, “No before. Harry. Harry who?”

“Styles, I think? I don’t know, he comes by once in a while.”

“Curly hair? Tall? Mick Jagger lips?” Zayn interrogates.

Josh smiles, “Yeah, that’s him? You know him?”

Zayn goes back to his side of the counter and distractedly replies, “Of course not.”

Josh scrunches up his eyebrows, “Then how—”

“He’s one of Liam’s friends.” Zayn dismisses with a lazy wave, not looking at Josh and looking deep in thought, hand on chin.

“Oh, cool.” Josh replies awkwardly. 

“Did he say the name of his friend?” Zayn suddenly lifts his brown gaze to Josh.

“Harry’s friend?”

“Yes, sweet Josh, try and remember Harry’s friend’s name. Was it Liam?”

“I vaguely remember that name, but what if I’m mixing it up with _your_ Liam?”

Zayn shakes his head, a devious grin on his face, and a giant glint on his eye, “It’s probably the same Liam, Josh. He likes nature and all that stuff.”

“Ok…”

“It’s better than ok, Josh, it’s the perfect plan.”

“I should tell you that I don’t want any involvement in this.”

Zayn gives him a small pat, still smiling mischievously.

::

_Seven._

_He is seven when he walks up to a girl in the playground and asks her if she want to play with him._

_She takes one look at him, and asks why he’s wearing a pink shirt. He says it looks pretty, and the girl laughs at him and goes off running. Harry stands there, wondering why his shirt is funny. He plays alone that day._

_There’s a birthday party a few months later, and Harry decides that when he grows up, he’d like to be a clown. He spends the rest of the year making up knock-knock jokes; a few boys start making fun of him._

_When he’s ten he becomes obsessed with birds; he likes how they fly, he likes their feathers and beaks and chirping. Harry goes everyday to the park to watch the colorful birds. He starts getting called bird-boy._

_When he’s twelve, his hair starts getting curly and weird, and they call him Curly Fry._

_When he other boys notice he doesn’t like playing football because he doesn’t like getting dirty, they call him gay, then faggot._

_They start hitting him when he’s thirteen and Harry starts wearing his cross earring._

_In school, people push him in the hallways because he doesn’t dress like them, in suits or blazers. When he gets taller than most, instead of being nice to him, they call him giant, giraffe._

_In secondary school they beat him up because he’s nice; because he always says hello to everyone, they call him stuck-up. They call him weirdo, and lady, and cry baby._

_On his last year of Secondary, they beat him to a pulp. Four boys wait for him after school, Harry runs when he sees them, but they’re faster, they get him. They laugh and taunt as they punch and kick him as hard as they can. Then they run off._

_Harry’s a mess of blood and tears. He can’t feel anything but pain. His face is purple and green and yellow, and he can feel as his face swells and huffs up. When he gets home, two hours later, his mother rushes him to the hospital. Harry gets more stitches than he can count, and has fractured his ribs._

_After that, he’s off to Sixth Form, but before he goes to his new school, to new friends and new teachers, he doffs the bandanas. He doffs the rings, the bracelets, the funny t-shirts, the scarves, the earrings, the rainbow converse. And he starts wearing blazers, he starts combing his hair to the back, he starts becoming_ proper _. He stops telling jokes, he stops his imitations, he stops his funny faces._

_If his classmates want normal, then they’ll get normal. If his parents want a posh little boy, they’ll get him. He’s a pleaser, after all, isn’t he?_

_He’ll stop being different then._

_When Harry goes back, it’s not as if he’s someone else. He’s still Harry, he’s still cheerful, and kind and funny, but people don’t get to see his other side, the one who’ll yell Celine Dion songs on the hallways, or the boy who tries to learn a different language each week._

_It works, Harry is popular on his new school. How could he not? The elegant, refined, pretty boy with curls and the charm._

_Harry painfully smiles his way through._

_::_

“So, we’ve got the hagfish here.” Mr. T points to a picture of a brown slimy fish. “Or, _Myxine Glutinosa_.”

Harry nods, “Jawless.”

“Yes, and here we have…” he points to another picture, the photograph of a less than graced fish.

Harry looks, confused, “Uhh...the rabbitfish something?”

“ _Small-eyed_ rabbitfish, Harry.” Mr. T smiles.

Harry frowns, “What, is there a  _big-eyed_ rabbitfish?”

“Actually, yes. The large-eyed rabbitfish, _Hydrolagus mirabilis.”_

“Oh. Well, that’s just stupid. Besides, why rabbitfish? They don’t look like rabbits.”

Mr. T shrugs, but laughs nonetheless, “You can do your essay on any of those.”

“I’m gonna pick the hagfish, I think. Either way, they’re all ugly fish, Mr. T. Should’ve given me the prettier ones.”

It was Mr. T’s free period and Harry had gone to his classroom to ask for recommendations for his essay. He really needed to ace that essay, half of his grade depended on it. He’s collecting his open books, ready to go, when he hears the soft echoes of someone’s steps just outside of the classroom.

He wonders if it’s another student, or a teacher. 

When he turns around however, he’s confused.

A short boy with blue eyes comes striding in. He looks vaguely familiar, but can’t recall from where.

Either way, the boy doesn’t even give him a small glance, his glare is focused on Mr.T. Harry wonders why that is.

Harry flinches as the boy throws a hard object on the teacher’s desk.

“This disgusting shit was in my boxes.”

Harry gets wide eyed and stares at the boy. How can he talk to his professor like that?

He’s never seen Mr. T angry, thinks he’s about to. Instead, the man looks bright eyed at the object on the desk.

“You found it!” the man grabs what it looks like a fossil. A fish fossil. Harry is half disgusted, half excited.

“Yeah how cool, it was in the middle of my books! Keep that stuff to yourself, Benjamin.”

_Benjamin?_

Mr. T sighs, but doesn’t seem angry, just tired. Harry doesn’t like how this boy is talking to his teacher. 

“Sorry, Louis.” he looks apologetic, then adds, “I was also wondering if you’d like to—”

Harry stopped listening at that point.  _Louis_ .

Louis, the boy from the club. The one who had stolen his date. Or something like that, he can’t remember.

Harry tries to slip unseen from the room, but before he can even move a muscle, Mr. T grins and says, “Oh, by the way Harry, this is Louis, my son. Louis this is Harry, one of my best students.”

Louis turns and looks at him, he gets wide eyed as he gaze falls upon Harry. He seems to recognize him immediately.

“How wonderful, my two favorite people in the world. Together.” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What, you two know each other?” Mr. T interrupts. 

“Yes.”

“No.” They say at the same time-

“I _meant_ ,” Louis forcefully says, glaring at Harry. “I’ve seen him around, but I don’t _know_ him.” 

“Well, you should, Lou. He’s a great guy, right Harry?”

Harry forces out a tight smile, but as soon as the older man looks away, he continues on glaring.

Louis huffs on in annoyance. “I’m sure he is.” Before he turns away, he distinctly coughs out  _manstealer_ .

Harry can’t believe how  _ridiculous_ this boy is. When he makes his way to grab his stacked books from the table, he makes sure to bump painfully onto him.

“Hey!” the other boy complains.

Harry smiles, “Sorry, didn’t see you there, little guy.”

Louis gapes at him, but before he can say anything, Harry grabs his books and makes his way to the exit, “I have to go Mr. T, but thanks for the advice. See you.” he smiles with a cheerful wave. 

Louis may or may not have been fuming.

::

 

_Liam can’t believe it. He doesn’t know what he’s done._

_Except he does know, kinda, but can’t believe it’s happening to him._

_Of course it would happen to him, right?_

_Poor Liam. The boy who never had too many friends, the boy who spent his childhood in hospitals, the boy who was always too shy._

_It just had to be him and not one of his stupid classmates that only thought of sex, sex, sex._

_He was only seventeen, he’d never had a girlfriend before, and now there she was, Danielle in all her pregnant glory._

_He knows how it happened, of course; Andy convinced him to go to one of those stupid parties where older girls would be. He hadn’t thought he’d get anything out of it. Except Danielle, an eighteen year old girl, had liked Liam. And then Andy told him to go and kiss her and then bam. Baby._

_He saw Danielle for a couple of weeks, they dated, and then she calls him, tells him to go to her house. He goes, not knowing what to expect, not having an_ idea _of what she’s going to tell him. And then she’s crying, her make up all over her face. She’s hysteric, and Liam tries to calm her down, but then she stays quiet, muttering something. Liam can’t hear her and comes closer to her. And then he hears it: I’m pregnant._

_And Liam’s world comes crashing down._

_He doesn’t leave Danielle, of course not. They decide they’re going to keep the baby._

_Liam’s parents are devastated, they ask him how could he be so careless and irresponsible. Liam cries himself to sleep for the next month, but done._

_Danielle loses a year of university, but stays there in Wolverhampton. They decide they should break up, they don’t love each other, and Liam doesn’t want to. He doesn’t love Danielle, but he wants to be with her._

_She tells him that he should go to university; that he needs to have something to provide for their baby. Liam doesn’t want to, but he goes. He goes to London, and studies, studies as hard as he can. He does it for Timothy._

::

“Hi.” Liam says as he enters the door.

Danielle smiles radiantly, she’s still pretty, just like every time he sees her. He wonders if it’s Timothy, if babies make people prettier, sort of like the pregnancy glow. 

“Hey, Liam.”

Her flat is small, but it smells of Timothy and it makes Liam feel warm.

“How’re you?” he asks her.

She shrugs, “Good, classes are tough, and then there’s the baby during the night, but I’m coping well, I think.”

That makes Liam feel instantly bad, he’s always felt irresponsible: leaving behind Danielle with Tim, two hours away from him.

“Are you sure, Danny?”

She smiles and rolls her eyes, “Yes, Liam. Mum’s been taking care of him while I’m at school, and when I have too much on my plate, my auntie and grandma like to help. They love Timothy, you know.”

Liam knows they do, everyone loves Timothy. 

“What about you, Li?” she replies, “Still as hardworking as ever?”

“It’s only been two weeks since I first saw you, nothing much has happened.” Liam replies, sitting on one of the couches.

“A lot can happen in two weeks. _I_ got into the university’s dancing squad.”

Liam grins at his friend, “Really? I thought you said it’s really hard.”

“It is,” she nods, “And don’t worry, I’ve fixed my schedules, I’ll still be here for Tim.”

“I’m not worried, if anyone can manage it you, Super Danielle.”

“Oh, hush it. I hear you’re number one in your fish class.”

Liam splutters and goes red in the face, “My  _fish_ class?”

Danielle laughs, “Yes, that’s what it is, isn’t it? You study fish, basically.”

“I guess so,” Liam sighs, “And I’m not number one, who told you that?”

“Your mum, you know Karen loves me.”

“I told her that because she’s my mum. There’s this kid, he’s better.”

Danielle frowns and hits him lightly on the arm, “I don’t believe that Liam Payne.”

Liam shrugs, as if saying ‘what can you do’. Then he asks, “Where’s Tim?”

“He was sleeping, but I’ll go wake him up.” Danielle says already standing up.

“Oh, no, don’t. I don’t want to wake him.”

The girl rolls her eyes, “It’s time for him to wake up anyway, besides, you haven’t seen him in two weeks. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

She goes towards her his small room, a tiny room full of blues and purples.

Liam is nervous, he always gets nervous whenever he’s about to see Timothy. He thinks that one of these days his son will forget about him, or get mad, or not recognize him. 

“Daddy!” But his nerves always melt away when he sees Timothy. The boy is always so cheerful, and happy to see him, and Liam knows he’s got the best son he could ask for.

A small chubby toddler with dark hair and rosy cheeks runs towards him, hugging Liam’s legs with his short arms. Liam gets down and ruffles his hair, then gives him a kiss on the forehead.

“Hey, there Timmy.” Liam knows he’s got a mega watt smile on his face right now, he always does whenever he’s with his son. “How’s my boy?”

Timothy giggles, and babbles on about his new dinosaur toys and the new drawing he made that same day.

Liam loves him so much, Timothy is the best thing he’s got. His hugs and stories and kisses are the reason he can’t go out, the reason he can’t meet pretty girls or boys like Zayn, and he’s more than ok with that. 

As long as he’s got his Timothy, he’s more than ok with that.

::

“ _No_.” Josh says as he closes up Kilimanjaro and stepping out into the already dark streets.

“Please, Josh, this is what friends are for, aren’t they?” Zayn whines, walking a couple of paces behind his friend. 

“I met you like, two days ago.” Josh eyes him with a purse of his lips.

Zayn huffs out air, now walking besides the other boy, “What’s your point?”

Josh sighs, “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll tell them tonight.”

“I’ll be there at ten, we need to be there at eleven thirty.” Zayn preens.

Josh groans, defeated. He’ll need to find a way to convince Niall and Louis, though he doesn’t think it’ll take much if he mentions food and beer. “Hey, Zayn?”

Zayn looks at him, motioning to continue.

“Like, you’re good-looking, I guess,” he starts as they keep walking down the street.

“Wow, thank you.” Zayn interrupts.

“You’re nice…you could probably get anyone you want. Why, _ _Liam__?”

Zayn thinks for a moment, looking pensively at the sky. They keep walking, the chilly air hitting them straight in the face, and the sound of the occasional car passing by making a tranquil lullaby of sorts. Josh feels the question means something more than what he asked.

Finally Zayn answers, “Because Liam is the one I like, you know?” he smiles slowly, “Someone once told me I needed to fight for I want. Some other boy is not who I want. Like, if Liam tells me to fuck off, I will, but…he hasn’t, so I guess I’ll keep trying.”

Josh ponders for a moment, but smiles back at the answer, “Ok, alright. Good.”

“Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow. My car’s over there…try to convince them, yes?” Zayn says, walking to the other side of the street.

Josh nods, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. See ya tomorrow, then.”

Zayn waves goodbye, and gets into his car. He's no feeling like going to his flat, and the drive from London to Bradford is not too long, only about three hours, he thinks he can make it back and forth and be back at nine am the next day.

He starts driving, soft music filling his car. He calls Perrie, tells her he’s on his way. She tells him she’ll wait for him at the cemetery.

It’s almost midnight when he reaches a small cemetery in Bradford. It’s gray and cold, and at night, it even looks like something from out of a scary movie. He gets out of his car, shuddering, a mix of the weather and the place, and quickly spots a small blonde, all bundled up in coats, waiting at the entrance.

He walks towards her and Perrie gives him a small, sad smile, “Hey.” she says.

He kisses her cheek, “Sorry for calling you this late in the night.”

“It’s alright, it’s been a while since you visited.” Perrie replies, punching him on the arm.

“I only came here to stop by her grave.”

“Your mom will be disappointed if she knows you came by and didn’t visit her.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” the girl asks.

Zayn shakes is head, “It’s alright, you can keep warm in my car. Promise I won’t take long.”

“Take as long as you want babe.”

Zayn nods and steps inside the graveyard, looks back just in time to see Perrie walk towards his car. There are dead leaves beneath his shoes, and it’s so dark, Zayn can’t see much of where he’s going. But he knows his way around, he walks around the place, never stopping, never faltering. When he gets to a tall, white stone, he sits in front of it, not caring the mud will stain his jeans.

“Hello, Reb.”

There’s no answer, of course.

He smiles, “I’m following your advice, met a nice boy a couple of weeks ago. His name’s Liam.” He exhales a puff of warm air into the cold night before talking wih his ex girlfriend.

::

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear we get to the good parts on chapter three. anyway, you can comment or give kudos if you liked the story, or if you'd like to give some feedback.  
> or you can message me on tumblr: tomlinsonandstyles.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is nice, pls tell me if you'd like to see where this is going :)


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